Williams' Family Reunion
by Thobbit
Summary: I'm honestly surprised nobody's written this yet. For Rory, it's the latter half of Series 6. For Rhys, it's after Season 4. Enjoy!


The Williams Family Reunion took place on a mini-golf course. No one was really sure how this had come about; it was just a general sort of consensus to which nobody cared enough to object. It didn't matter, really, because a mix-up with the weather forecast and subsequent unexpected downpour meant the Williams Family Reunion was actually taking place next to a mini-golf course, inside the cramped locale of Putnam's Barcade. ("Gin, Tonic & Old-style Games!")

Rory was leaning on a pinball machine, watching his various relatives speak too loudly and argue about whether to leave, or wait out the rain. Privately, he figured trying to wait out English rain was a pointless activity, but Amy and the Doctor had dropped him off, so he couldn't exactly catch a ride home.

"Hey." A bland-looking man with two styrofoam cups and a Welsh accent walked over. He offered Rory one of the drinks. "Rhys Williams. You're...Ronnie, yeah? You look like you could use some tea."

"Rory," corrected Rory, gratefully taking the warm cup. "You're Grandma Melanie's nephew, right? From Wales?"

"Cardiff, yeah," confirmed Rhys. "I wouldn't be here, but my wife's in London, for work," (trying to talk the government out of some more equipment,) "and she figured I ought to introduce little Anwen to the family." He jerked a finger back at a small figure in a bright pink raincoat surrounded by cooing women.

Rory nodded, and sipped his tea. "Nice. How old is she?"

Rhys smiled proudly. "Two years."

"Lucky, getting to raise her."

Rhys looked at him curiously. "You're married, yeah? But no kids? Auntie Melanie calls with all the family gossip, whether I like it or not." He grimaced jokingly.

"Yes, Amy and I are married. The other thing's...complicated." (Now that was an understatement.)

Rhys decided to leave the subject alone. The wife probably didn't want it, though the bloke obviously did. "So what's your wife do, then?"

It was best to tell the truth, right? That's how real spies did it. "She travels a lot."

Rhys shook his head sympathetically. "And leaves you home, bein' a nurse? Sore luck, mate."

Rory happened to like being a nurse. "I generally go with her, but...it can be a bit...weird." He paused. "Always with a friend, too. He's nice, but I sort of wish we could have some time alone, you know?"

Rhys clapped him on the back. "Been there, mate. Gwen, my wife, works with this guy who never stops flirting. Drives me crazy."

"Uh-huh." Rory nodded uncomfortably into his cup. The design on the side was impressively garish, cheerfully suggesting the drinker should "Putt 'em at Putnem's!" At least this Rhys's guy flirted with his wife, and not his daughter.

"Still, though, wife's a travel agent, must get some really great vacations," Rhys continued doggedly.

"Sort of, yeah. She's the one who really loves it, though." He shrugged. "I just kinda go along."

"Know how you feel, mate. Anywhere good though?"

"Well, we spent three months in America once."

Rhys nodded. "Yeah, we've been there. Didn't see much, though. Right after Miracle Day." (He probably couldn't say any more than that, with the damn CIA.)

Rory nodded knowingly, or so he hoped. He kept hearing about that, but they'd missed it. Stupid time travel. "We weren't really tourists either, but I didn't like it much." (They'd gone on the run, then faked their deaths. The scenery was nice.) "We went to Berlin, way back," (1939.) "And Venice, meant to be romantic." (Attacked by fish-vampires.)

"Venice, eh? Italy? Old, that is. She into history, all that Roman stuff?"

Rory, attempting a gulp of rapidly-cooling tea, had a small coughing fit. "Yeah, she likes Roman...stuff." He tried to change the subject. "So what do you think of the reunion? Your first, right, seeing as you live in Wales."

"Wet," replied Rhys, gesturing to the rain outside. "Doesn't really matter to me. I'm not much of a mini-golfer." (They'd tried it once, but Gwen had gotten a call to go deal with some alien menace.)

"Same here," Rory agreed. ('It's so cool!' the Doctor had said. 'Like golf, but miniature!' Three holes in, they were all shrunk to the size of golf balls and swinging desperately from the spokes of the windmill.) "I've never gotten the hang of it myself." (That was clever wordplay; he should remember it.)

The awkward trailing-off of the conversation was interrupted by a boom from outside, followed by a loud whumping noise. The assembled Williams family rushed out for a better view.

"Look!" shouted someone's cousin, pointing excitedly. " Over London!"

Everyone looked, and through the dwindling rain, they could make out what looked like a giant column of deep purple smoke, spiraling up from the south.

"Anwen, come here, honey," Rhys called to his daughter. She trotted over, happily oblivious to whatever was going on. He stared worriedly at the growing cloud.

Rory tapped him on the shoulder. "What are they doing?" he asked, pointing at the trio that'd just spilled out of a large black van, carrying large guns, and were now waving small devices towards the possibly-exploded London.

Rhys sighed relief. "That's my Gwen!" Of course she was okay. He shouldn't worry just because Jack was with her. He didn't always get her into trouble. Anyway, Rex was fairly sensible.

Rory started down the slope, toward the van. Rhys hurried after him. "No, don't do that, she's, um, Ops. They're working on whatever it is."

Rory paused, though not because of Rhys's suggestion. He'd heard a familiar noise coming from behind the Barcade. Below, one of the men who'd come out of the van was looking up. "Okay, sure." He turned and hurried back.

"Great," said Rhys, lifting Anwen in his arms. "Come on, honey, let's go see Mummy."

"Who was that guy?" asked Jack, when he got to the bottom of the hill.

"What? I don't know. A third cousin or something. What's going on?"

But Jack was staring up at the Barcade. Rhys followed his gaze to a where Rory was standing by the side of the building with a tall man in black slacks, a brown coat, and––Rhys squinted-braces and a bowtie. The man nodded, and gave them something between a salute and a cheery wave. Jack sprang to attention and saluted back. The man nodded again, and went around the back of the Barcade, followed by Rory.

"Who was that?" asked Rory as the TARDIS took off. Amy was changing in the bedroom. Something about 'flaming slime beetles', or possibly politicians.

"Where to next?" shouted the Doctor, racing around the console and ignoring the question as usual. "How about Oujevak? Fascinating people, the Oujevaks. They worship cheese."

"Aren't we going back to help?" Rory demanded. "Big smoky cloud over London?"

The Doctor paused long enough to tap him on the nose. "Don't worry, Rory, the humans have got this one covered themselves."


End file.
